


On a Cold Winter's Night

by DawnsEternalLight



Category: Batman (Comics), DCU (Comics)
Genre: Alfred the cat - Freeform, Bruce Wayne - Freeform, Fluff, Gen, I promise it's not christmas, Power Outage, Snow Storm, but only the littlest bit, fireplace, fireside stories, stories, though they do make snowflakes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-24
Updated: 2019-12-24
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:14:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21943447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DawnsEternalLight/pseuds/DawnsEternalLight
Summary: Snuggled inside against the falling snow outdoors, Dick and Damian tell stories and cut snowflakes out of paper.
Relationships: Dick Grayson & Damian Wayne
Comments: 8
Kudos: 122
Collections: Batfam Christmas Stocking 2019





	On a Cold Winter's Night

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Evergreena](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Evergreena/gifts).



> Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays, Evergreena! I hope you enjoyed this prompt.

Damian was seated in the manor’s living room, the grandfather clock ticking behind him, and Alfred the cat lounging over his feet, making his socked toes almost too hot. Even so, he appreciated the weight, and besides, he would never do the cat the indignity of shooing him once he’d graced Damian with his presence. 

He was resting against an arm rest, sketchbook propped up on his knees as he faced the large window looking out into the garden. It was not yet too late in the day. Still the sun was quickly moving it’s way across the sky, bringing the light into the perfect tones that existed just before evening. Everything was bathed in warm oranges, making the snow, already dotted with the footprints of Damian’s pets and family, sparkle and look somewhat akin to fire with it’s glow. 

It was of course, the perfect time to sketch. Damian would later render the drawing into a painting fit to match the day, but he wanted to get everything down now, and fill a corner of his page with colors that matched what he saw every time he looked up from the book in his lap. It was a lovely scene he wished to attempt to recreate. He might hate being cold, but snow fascinated him. It had been so rare a thing for him up until he’d moved to Gotham. Usually it was simply another obstacle to overcome, or he was busy and didn’t have time to enjoy it. Now though, he could stare out and actually appreciate its beauty. 

Damian stayed there, working on his sketch as the sun inched its way lower and lower and darkness began to fall. Outside, the snowfall that had created the source of his work had started again, falling in steady waves, and growing in weight. It covered the footprints, and eventually, it eclipsed his view, forcing him to stop sketching anything new and either focus entirely on it or on darkening the lines of his work. 

He chose to look out the window, transfixed by the way it could obscure so completely. He wondered briefly how it would feel to be standing out in it, and then dismissed the idea. It might look soft and inviting, but his nose would grow red and run, and his shoes would be soggy, and it would take him all day to find the warmth he felt now if he went out. 

“They’re all different, you know.” Grayson’s voice washed over Damian as he walked in, his tone low enough it did not make him jump, "The snowflakes I mean." 

Damian looked up at his brother, he’d stopped to stand by the couch, arm’s weighed down with logs. Damian raised an eyebrow at the wood and Grayson shrugged. 

“I thought I’d start a fire. It’s the perfect day for one.”

“Will we be going on patrol this evening?” Damian asked, turning his attention back to the window, and the dark silhouettes of trees just peeking out behind the blowing snow. 

“Nah, not in this weather. It’s supposed to go on like this all night off and on. It’ll keep all but the most determined inside.” 

Grayson moved past Damian and over to the fireplace. He settled the wood beside it, and got to work getting it ready for a fire. It was kept immaculately clean, but it was always important to check that the chute was open and that there were no problems that might arise once a fire had been lit. 

Damian watched Grayson as he stacked wood and adjusted it, fiddling with it as if they were in the wilderness and the fire was all they had to stave off freezing. As he worked Damian’s mind drifted back to the snowflakes. 

“Brown was insisting on making snowflakes.” he mused, “I could not figure out how she thought we were to produce snow.”

From within the fireplace Grayson chuckled, the sound echoing off the bricks, “Did she explain what she meant?” 

He shrugged, “Eventually. Once she stopped laughing.” He brushed a thumb up the corner of his sketchbook, feeling the pages flip and fall down, “We never ended up making them."

His brother pulled away from the fireplace, sitting back on his heels, and turned to look at Damian, “Why don’t we do that tonight? Some cocoa and crafting will be fun. I’d love to see Bruce’s face when he comes back to find the whole room out in snowflakes.” 

Damian curled his toes into the couch, making the cat huff and shift with the movement. He glanced now at the hallway outside the room, “Father will be late then?” 

“Al said he had a meeting with someone from…” Grayson stopped and shrugged, “Can’t remember. It’s in a different time zone though, so this time was the most accommodating.” 

“I see.” 

Damian turned his attention back to the window. It wasn’t the worst of storms, but it was possible that things would grow worse before Father even left, further delaying him on his return home. It wouldn’t hurt patrol preparations since they were not going out, but Damian would miss the time with him. They had fallen into a habit of working together, either upstairs or in the cave. Each would focus on his own projects, but the time spent together was nice. Father was always just in reach if Damian needed him. 

“Then yes, cocoa and crafting sounds fun. How many snowflakes do you think we should make in order to surprise Father?” 

Grayson chuckled and suggested a number, then sent Damian off to find supplies while he finished lighting the fire. Damian had to carefully extract Alfred from his feet, but the cat didn’t seem too perturbed by the action. 

Once they were set up with everything they needed, cocoa included, the two worked together making snowflakes. They were seated on the floor, with supplies spread around them, and a steadily growing pile of snowflakes. For a while as the snow continued to fall outside. It never halted, as Grayson had suggested it might, but instead continued to pick up it’s speed. 

At some point the lights around them flickered and then all shut off, leaving Damian to stare up blankly at the ceiling, like that might make them switch back on. 

“Might be a breaker or something, I’m going to go find Al and see what’s up. You stay here.” Grayson said, pushing himself to his feet. 

Damian huffed and waved him off, “Do not be too long, it is probably a simple fix and we have not completed nearly as many snowflakes as you said we needed.” 

Left on his own, Damian turned to glance back out the window, but there was little to see. The sun had set, and the lights around the house had gone out as well as those inside. He may be able to spot something if he pressed his face to the window, but he would not do anything so undignified as that. 

Instead he looked back at the fire, the only thing lighting the room, and let the crackle and pop of it soothe the irrational worry building in his stomach. If power was out here, how bad was it in the city? Would Father make it back at all tonight? And what would they do if the lights did not come back on soon?

He scooted a little closer to the fire and picked up another piece of paper, folding it carefully before beginning to snip at it with his scissors to create a snowflake effect. While he worked, he resisted the urge to grab his phone to check for news. The thought that perhaps he might not have service stopped him. Besides, Grayson would return soon enough he was sure. 

Grayson did return, almost ten minutes later, after Damian had managed to work himself into a worry over anything and everything. Really, when had he become so soft as to worry about everyone else? 

“Snow collapsed a line further up.” Grayson told him, returning to his seat on the floor by Damian, “It’ll be a couple hours at least before they’ve got it fixed. Alfred’s snuggled in his room by a fire of his own and suggests we stay by ours.” 

“Any news from Father?” Damian asked, “Have we informed him of the situation here?” 

Grayson shook his head, “Service is spotty right now, but I sent him a text. We'll see if he gets it or if I can even get the response. For now, let’s sit tight and keep working on our plan. Lights or no, we can still make the inside look as good as outside.” 

Damian rolled his eyes but handed his brother more paper. After a few more minutes working in the silence he asked, “Did you and Father ever do anything like this?” 

His brother hummed and considered the question, “Sometimes. Though, Bruce used to tell stories about his time training.” Grayson smiled, “When it snowed, he’d tell all the cold ones about climbing mountains and almost being caught in avalanches.”

“And when it did not?” 

“Ah, then he’d pick something to fit the mood. If it was storming he’d tell a dark tale set in the spookiest stormiest setting he could come up with. Half the time I thought he was just making things up. Now, sometimes I think he wasn’t.”

This made Damian smile, a tiny knowing one, “I doubt Father would lie about training.” 

Grayson’s own smile fell just a little, not quite enough for most to notice, but Damian did, “Yeah. I guess you’d be able to tell.” 

Something in his look made Damian want to squirm, like he was being watched carefully. He did not know how this had gone from speaking of Father to speaking of him, but he wanted the topic changed, and changed quickly. It did not matter what training he had or didn’t have or how he would be able to commiserate with Father. He most certainly did not wish to make Grayson sad over the fact. 

“And what stories do you have?” he pressed, “Any tales of cold nights and power outages?” 

Grayson leaned back, resting against the ledge under the fireplace, “So many, and not all including Freeze, he doesn’t have a monopoly on being cold you know.” 

“Then tell me one about someone else.” Damian challenged, settling another snowflake aside. 

“I will.” Grayson said, then set right into a story about fighting Captain Cold with Wally that ended up with the both of them tucked into the batmobile, red nosed and shivering from near hypothermia while their mentors finished things up outside. 

Grayson then broke into another story, this time featuring Freeze, a giant red ornament, and a children’s play place that somehow ended up totally frozen. Damian ended up so wrapped up in his brother’s stories he forgot all about cutting any more snowflakes. The two of them ended up snuggled closer and closer to the fire, Damian leaned into Grayson as he talked, and Grayson shifting every so often to check the fire or add a log. 

So wrapped up in a story was Damian, that he did not hear the entrance of another to the room. It wasn’t until a voice interrupted Grayson’s story that either of them looked up. 

“That’s not quite how I remember it going.” Father’s deep voice rumbled. 

He stood by the couch, snow still dusting the top of his hair, nose ever so slightly red, and grinning at them both.

"Well it's how I remember it." Grayson shot back. 

Father rolled his eyes and looked over their stack of snowflakes, "What are you doing?" 

“Drat.” Grayson said, “We forgot to put up the decorations.” 

“Father!” Damian stood, moving over to him, he took his hand and led him to the fireplace, “Do not just stand there, it is cold.” 

The three of them shuffled until they were all comfortable around the fire. Scissors and paper were shoved into Bruce’s hand with Grayson’s command to help if he was going to ruin the surprise anyway. 

Damian took up his own, “So Father, if Grayson’s story was not accurate, then I believe it is up to you to correct his mistakes.” 

“Hey!” Grayson said.

At the same time Father smiled, “Yes, I believe so. It all started on a night much like this one…” 


End file.
